


In The Mirror

by SeaTempest



Category: Naruto
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sarada is a baby, dad!Sasuke at its finest, fluffiest fluff to ever fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:36:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28978998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeaTempest/pseuds/SeaTempest
Summary: Sarada doesn't remember her father when he comes back and he tries to fix that.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	In The Mirror

She didn't remember him.

Such pain he thought to be forgotten, to be one he'd never feel again. He hoped it wouldn't come back to him once it disappeared with the war's end, with the decisions he made long ago. Meaning only to repair and heal after all the suffering he caused, the pain that transfixed him like hot iron now was unlike any he had previously felt. It was unbearable to think that somehow it was fair of her to look at him like that. Equal parts scared and hostile.

There was some weak form of the ancient hatred those thousand-year-old obsidian eyes of hers held. His eyes. The eyes of his father and his father before. Nothing hurt him more than the knowledge that he was the source of that hatred but it did not fit her. The darkness he was made of did not fit her and yet she was his flesh and blood, and was nothing like her mother. At least that's what she was like today.

Sasuke let Sakura fall asleep, nestled against him but he couldn't find peace of mind. He came back from a long absence and couldn't wait to see his family. Sakura was overjoyed, of course, but Sarada  — now almost three years old — did not remember him. She hid behind her mother's leg most of the time, frightened. Then let out some inarticulate speech of clustered anger and frustration, when Sakura leaned to kiss him a warm welcome.

They parted in wonder, staring down at Sarada, finding her grasping her mother's clothes and furrowing at him with immense wrath. That tiny human being was the rightful owner of his heart. He bestowed it upon her in the second he saw her in her mother's arms. And now it was thrown away for the look in her eyes spoke to him enough  — she didn't recognize him. She didn't know him. True, five months was a long time but he wasn't prepared for such an expressive reaction.

Sakura tried to appease him, as she always did when he had fallen into the abyss of his doubts and past-time nightmares, but she had no power in that matter. She could heal everything else and he was grateful for it, but she couldn't force Sarada to feel something that she didn't.

It was one of those sleepless nights. Thinking about the scene over and over again unsettled him to the extent of losing his composure. Why didn't he say something? He never thought it necessary to do so in most situations, but it was different today. Perhaps if he convinced her that he's not an enemy she would've changed her mind. The rest of the night she avoided standing near him, despite Sakura's countless efforts to show her he's not a threat.

His thoughts circled around the subject with bitterness and regret corroding him from the inside until a sound didn't faze him out of it. Sarada's low weeping from the next room reached the bedroom and Sasuke felt Sakura take a deeper breath, half-awake half-asleep.

"Not again," Sakura groaned quietly, covering her ear with the sheets.

Sasuke looked down at his wife's huddled form and the locks of pink hair that came from under the blanket. She appeared more than tired.

"Should I go?" Sasuke drawled as if unsure whether it was a good idea.

If she was terrified of him throughout the day, he didn't know how she'll handle him at night.

"It's alright, I can do it," Sakura sighed, but her harassed tone was enough for him to make the decision.

"No need."

Sakura was positively hoping for his help in the matter because she was back asleep before he even said the words, her inhaling and exhaling once again deepening.

Sasuke slowly parted from her and got up, covering himself with one of those soft wrappers Sakura bought for the three of them during the coldest days of the last winter. Sarada's room was small and adhered next to their bedroom. The door was usually opened, but Sakura closed it that night, needing the privacy to be alone with him  — something that didn't happen all too much.

He entered her room and quietly closed it behind so that the sounds won't bother his wife. Sarada, on the other hand, was up and crying at her best. Her crib had a low wooden railing that reached her waist and she was currently holding onto it with both hands and waiting for attention. Noticing his presence didn't change her state at all. In fact, her crying became even louder.

Sasuke decided he had nothing to lose and went to her. He switched the soft light next to the crib on and she faltered, stepping back. Tears still running down her face, she now hiccupped and rubbed her eyes.

"Sarada," Sasuke whispered, reaching for her. "Come to me."

She shook her head.

"Sarada, don't make me grab you by force," he warned in a low-voice, highly doubting that she understood anything of what her parents said. The tone, though, seemingly intrigued her because she looked right at him, pouting.

"If you keep crying, you'll wake your mother up," He explained to her slowly. "Do you want to wake mama up?"

"Mama," came the mechanical reply.

It was probably the only word she knew.

Sarada stood still and cross at him, with strawberry-stamped diaper pants, and he could hear his heart shattering in pieces. She had grown up so quickly and he missed it. Time slipped through his fingers and he couldn't trace the process of her change. All this time in which she smiled and played and lived, forgetting about him, he spent in trying to not lose her image; trying to preserve her form in his mind for she was his most precious. She was the best he had ever done, a creation of his purest love and brightest joy.

He loved her so much that he could kill for her and there she was, looking at him as if he was a stranger. Maybe he really deserved that look. Sasuke blinked, realizing his eyes had blurred without him noticing.

"Sarada," he tried again, but his voice failed him and he looked down.

It was pointless, wasn't it? Trying to win her affection with empty words and promises he'd watch over and protect her. Everyone knew he was not where she needed him to be and not there when she needed him to be there.

Sarada shifted unnoticeably and startled him with her close presence. She murmured something, still hiccupping, and raised her hands up, waiting to be picked up. Perhaps Sakura hugging and kissing him in front of her during the dinner influenced her decision a tad. Sasuke took her right away but not before he made sure the hold of his hand was safe enough and her blanket was wrapped around her.

"I hope you'll forgive me someday," he spoke to her quietly, touching their noses but she still looked at him with general confusion and distrust.

She tried to push him aside, making squeaking sounds when he kissed her forehead. Sasuke narrowed eyes at her and looked at his right. If she still didn't trust him, he had to prove himself right in  _ some  _ way. He remembered Sakura wanting to place a mirror beside the door when they still decided on the room's interior. And he complied, despite thinking it is a weird idea to place a mirror in a baby's room. It fit perfectly, a matter of fact.

Sasuke neared it and waited for a reaction. The light was sufficient enough for anyone to notice their likeness. She was an absolute copy of him. Even her pouting was the same.

Sarada soon turned her head and her reddened eyes stilled on the glass. Curiosity caused her head to tilt and then straighten up again. Her hand reached for the mirror with another squeal. Sasuke's gaze shifted on the mirror, amused by his daughter's lively response. He stepped close enough for her to touch the glass surface. Guttural sounds escaped her mouth when she placed a tiny hand over her own reflection and didn't move for a minute. Then her dark eyes raised up to him in wonder. They bounced between her reflection and him as if suddenly finding out there was an unsolved mystery in what the mirror showed and what the reality was.

Sasuke waited patiently while her examination lasted. At least she wasn't crying now, fully distracted by the situation. Her ebony hair was reaching her shoulders and surrounded her pale face. It was in the complexion and the shape of her nose. The form of her lips, too. Only her eyes were her mother's but their contour was lost in the onyx beads of her irises, which, too, belonged to him. A flash of melancholy touched him when he thought how much Itachi would've loved her. Perhaps he did… but he just couldn't see or feel it.

"Papa," Sarada's clear voice brought him to his senses and struck him like a lightning bolt.

She made her conclusion and calmed down, it seems, her head now leaning on his chest. He took a breath and exhaled slowly, lips touching her hair.

"Yes," he spoke hoarsely. "That's right."

Sarada cuddled in him and closed her eyes, content with her new warm sleeping place and Sasuke fought with himself a long time. He had to return her to the crib, but he didn't want to. That battle was lost and he knew it.

She could sleep in her crib when he's gone, he thought as he switched the light off and headed for the door. The bedroom was for the time when he's at home.

**Author's Note:**

> I love a soft Sasuke a bit too much, ok? I hope you liked it!


End file.
